I hate vulgar realism in literature. The man who would call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one.

It is only an auctioneer who can equally and impartially admire all schools of art.

While we look to the dramatist to give romance to realism, we ask of the actor to give realism to romance.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

Look at the moon. How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from a tomb. She is like a dead woman. One might fancy she was looking for dead things.

A man who moralizes is a hypocrite, and a woman who does so is invariably plain.

Musical people always want one to be perfectly dumb at the very moment when one is longing to be perfectly deaf.